She had no doubt of that. “So…are djinn babies any different from human babies?”
“If you’re asking whether they cry less or whether their diapers need to be changed less, I fear the answer is no.”
Was that a hint of a smile touching Zahrias’ mouth? Yes, she thought it was. She wished he would smile more often, because it brought a warm light to his dark eyes that seemed to illumine his whole face.
Julia found herself smiling in return. Then she realized maybe that had been a miscalculation, because his expression sobered, even as his gaze fastened on hers, eyes locked so she couldn’t look away…not that she wanted to.
Deliberately, he set his glass down on the coffee table next to the wine bottle before taking a step toward her. Then another. Now she could see little flickers of flame beginning to dance around him, as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer.
He was so close, not even an arm’s length away. Was she still breathing? She couldn’t tell for sure. The room was absolutely quiet, even the logs in the hearth not crackling away, although she could have sworn she’d heard one of them give a loud pop not a moment earlier.
His voice was hardly more than a harsh whisper. “I swore to myself I would not do this.”
“Do what?” she asked. But of course she knew the answer.
“This.”
Then he was right there, his arms going around her, pulling her close, his mouth on hers, tasting her, and heat seemed to explode in her core, in the very center of her being. She was melting into him, tasting the darkness of the wine on his tongue, breathing in something sharp and aromatic, possibly a perfume that clung to his heavy silken robes.
God, he was strong. Not because he was holding her too tightly, but more that she could feel the heaviness of the muscles in his arms and chest, the coiled power there. She’d never been with a man who felt like this. Ian, her late fiancé, had been in shape, but lean and slim, a runner and a tennis player. And Margolis —
No, she wouldn’t think about him. She hadn’t been with him, anyway, only forced to endure his touch. Better to let herself drown in Zahrias’ kiss, to drink in every sensation, from the brush of his hair against her cheek to the heat that seemed to pulse from every inch of his flesh.
Very gently, he lifted his mouth from hers. His hands cupped her face, so tender, fingers warm and strong against her skin.
“You are so very beautiful,” he murmured.
A shudder went through her. She wished she could speak, but no words seemed right in that moment. He was right, perfect and strong and amazing. And yet she knew this was wrong. It had to be. If he really wanted her this badly, then why come to her now? Why not save her when the Heat began, the way Jace had saved Jessica?
Somehow she found her voice. “I don’t — I don’t understand.”
His brows drew together, even as he lifted his hands from her face, settling them instead on her shoulders. “What don’t you understand?”
“Why now?”
Something flickered in those dark eyes. Not an echo of the flames that danced around him, flames that did not burn, but some emotion she couldn’t quite read.
Finally he said, “Because I could not find the will to withstand you any longer.”
He made it sound as if she was a drug habit he’d been trying to kick. She pulled in a breath. “So…what? You wanted me all along, but wouldn’t allow yourself to be with a mortal?”
“It is more complicated than that.”
God, she hated it when men made that kind of excuse. She shrugged her shoulders out of his grasp, and he let go, stepping back a pace. “It always is,” she said bitterly. “But I’d still like to hear the reason why you would say that.”
His face went very still. “If that is what you wish.”
One kiss, and they were already arguing. That seemed to be par for the course where her love life was concerned. But she wouldn’t back down. She needed to know the truth…needed to know why Zahrias was only coming to her now. If she’d been Chosen, she wouldn’t have had to endure last winter in Los Alamos. Wouldn’t have had to endure Margolis….
“It is what I wish,” she said.
Zahrias turned away from her and retrieved his wine glass, then swallowed a too-large mouthful. Something about the act startled Julia, made her realize that he was not quite as self-assured as he wanted her to believe. “I’m surprised Jessica said nothing of it to you, but very well. Many years ago, I bound myself to a mortal woman. But she could not reconcile herself to the life of an immortal, of seeing her friends and family pass from the world, leaving her behind. And so eventually she took her life, so that she might be with them.”
This terrible story was related in calm, even tones, as if it had all happened to someone else. All the heat that had washed through Julia’s body a few moments earlier now disappeared, replaced by a creeping chill.
“So you see why I might resist the attraction to another mortal woman. Not to say that you are anything like Evangeline, but I could not allow myself to take that risk.”
Evangeline. A beautiful name, but Julia hated the long-dead woman in that moment, hated her for her selfishness. How could she have done such a thing to someone as strong and good and noble as Zahrias?
“And yet you took that risk now.”
“Because even I cannot resist forever. At least, not when it comes to you, Julia.”
On his lips, her name was both a caress and a plea. Hearing it, she wanted to go back to him, to lay her head on his shoulder and tell him she understood. But while some part of her did understand, beneath the understanding burned an anger that he couldn’t get beyond his past to come to her at a time when it would have mattered. Before Margolis had laid his hands on her, and fractured a piece of her soul.
“Maybe you should have,” she told him. “Because what exactly did you think was going to happen next?”
He didn’t exactly recoil, but she saw his back stiffen. Jaw tight, he replied, “I had hoped that was something we could discuss together.”
Once upon a time, maybe such a thing would have been possible. She wanted him — even now she could feel how her body ached for him. But he’d made his move too late. He could have saved her from so much…but he hadn’t.
She had to get out of here. Back to the hotel, where she could hide until it was time to leave the next morning. Then she could run away to Los Alamos and pretend that none of this had ever happened. In time she might even be able to forget.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said, then turned and headed for the door.
Zahrias didn’t try to stop her.
Chapter Six
The door closed. Softly, but the sound of it was like thunder in his ears.
Zahrias stood in the center of the living room, watching where she had gone, but somehow unable to move. It was as though he thought if he only remained still enough, that terrible scene would be erased, and he could go on as he always had.
Worse, he could still taste her on his tongue, smell the scent of her hair. His body throbbed with need for her, and he could do nothing about it.
What did you expect? he thought then. Once she knew the truth of the matter, she would despise him for his weakness, for not being able to move past his pain to claim her for his own at a time when doing so would have made a difference. One might argue that if she hadn’t been in Los Alamos to help them, both Jasreel and Jessica might have perished at Margolis’ hands, but that had to be cold comfort to a woman who had been despoiled by that very same monster.
A monster who was now on the loose.
Anger flashed through him, terrible and quick as the lightning storms that swept over this country at the height of the summer monsoon season. In answer to that anger, the wine bottle flew across the room and smashed itself in the hearth. The flames there sputtered and then flared up more brightly, consuming the alcohol spattered over the logs.
Useless display…and a waste of good wine. He realized he could have used that
wine to dull the ache of Julia’s departure. And true, he could have summoned another bottle, but it would not have been the one he had just broken. Like Julia, the cabernet franc had been perfect in its way, not something he could easily replace. Nor would he wish to. They were meant to be savored as their own unique selves.
He wondered then if perhaps he could have said something — anything — to keep her from going, but when the moment came, he had not been able to summon the words to his lips.
In time, perhaps he would heal. She would be gone, and he could return to the life he had constructed here for himself. It had been foolish to think he could have anything more than that.
Ah, well. At least he had had many decades to learn how to live alone.
* * *
Sleep was not Julia’s friend that night, but eventually she drifted off, more because she knew she had to be somewhat functional the next day, no matter what had happened between her and Zahrias. The problem was, she could still feel his arms around her, the strength and heat of his flesh. Her body yearned for him, even though she knew being with him was not an option. It was — all right, she wasn’t so irrational as to think it was his fault that Margolis had raped her, but one couldn’t argue that she would never have been around the commander in the first place if Zahrias had only claimed her at the same time the rest of the djinn selected their Chosen.
And when she awoke the next morning, she was irritable from lack of sleep and knew she looked terrible. She’d packed a few cosmetics, but they weren’t enough to hide the shadows under her eyes or her reddened eyelids. If anyone asked, she’d just say she’d had an allergic reaction to the detergent they used to wash the sheets here or something.
However, no one did ask. She ate breakfast with Brent Sanderson, but he seemed to be looking at his eggs or into his coffee mug or out the window of the restaurant — anywhere except directly at her. He knew she’d had dinner with Zahrias the night before, but clearly he wasn’t going to ask her about it.
After they were done with breakfast, she told Brent and Nancy and Eric to make sure they were ready to go. No point in dragging them over to the U.S. Marshals’ building; she’d head there herself and collect Miles and Lindsay, then be on the road home by nine o’clock. She hadn’t seen any djinn hanging around, but that didn’t surprise her too much.
The only awkward moment had been when Phillip himself brought out their breakfasts, and asked Julia how she had liked the elk tenderloin the night before. She stammered that she thought it was amazing, and thanked him for preparing for such a wonderful meal. If he’d noticed anything about her appearance or manner that seemed off, he didn’t show it. Thank God for small favors.
She went over to the U.S. Marshals’ building soon afterward. Murrah, the big djinn who’d been one of Margolis’ guards, was loitering around the place and offered to take her down in the elevator. Julia knew the way well enough, but she thought refusing him would be rude, and so she allowed him to get in the elevator car with her and guide her to the cell in the lowest sub-basement, after which he waited off to one side like the world’s most oversized bellhop.
As she’d expected, Miles and Lindsay were already there. By that point, it seemed as if Lindsay had given up any pretext at working and was propped up against one wall, a mug of coffee in her hands and a frown pulling at her brows. Miles, of course, was still tapping away at his iPad. Julia wondered if he slept with that thing…or if he slept at all. Poor Lindsay.
“Okay, troops,” Julia said, hoping she sounded at least halfway authoritative. If only she wasn’t so damn tired. “Time to pack it in. We’re heading back to Los Alamos.”
An expression of relief crossed Lindsay’s features, but Miles only shook his head. “I’m still tabulating — ”
“I’m getting the impression that there isn’t anything to tabulate,” Julia broke in. “It’s okay to admit every once in a while that you’re flummoxed.”
“I am not flummoxed,” Miles protested. “I am gathering data. Because you aren’t a scientist, perhaps you don’t — ”
“You’re right. I’m not a scientist.” Usually Julia tried to be a little more patient with Miles, because she knew his contributions to the Los Alamos community were what had kept everyone there alive, but at that moment she’d had it. She wanted to go home and get the hell out of Santa Fe. Maybe once she was back in familiar surroundings she’d be able to forget that kiss she’d shared with Zahrias. She had to. Otherwise, Shawn Gutierrez’s prospects were looking pretty bleak. “But I am the leader of our group, and I’m saying we’re going home.”
Miles’s lips compressed. “Lindsay, tell her we’re not done.”
“You’re not done, Miles. I was done yesterday.” Lindsay lifted the coffee mug she held to her lips and drained the remainder of its contents. Her expression softened as she looked over at her companion. “Sweetie, there just isn’t anything to find here.”
Julia didn’t have time to reflect on the incongruity of Miles Odekirk being referred to as “sweetie.” Without looking back at Murrah — for all she knew, the djinn would report their entire conversation to Zahrias after this was all over — she said, “I think you need to listen to Lindsay, Miles. You’ve been over and over the same ground ever since we got here. There’s just nothing to find.”
“I’m staying,” he said mulishly. “You go, if you feel it necessary to go back to Los Alamos. Lindsay can go with you.”
“Oh, no way,” Lindsay said at once. “If I leave you here, I just know you’ll forget to eat, and I doubt anyone is going to hang around to babysit you. If you’re staying, then I’m staying, too.”
Crazy, the both of them. The universe had been kind in allowing them to find each other. Too bad it hadn’t been nearly as kind to her. Julia shoved that self-pitying thought aside. “So how are you supposed to get home whenever you decide you are done? We only brought the one device with us.”
Miles didn’t blink. “We can keep in contact by radio. When I feel we’ve sufficiently exhausted our options here, I’ll let you know, and you can send a team to retrieve us.”
Using up more fuel and putting more people at risk. But maybe that was being a little harsh. The drive over here had certainly been uneventful. Yes, it would waste some gas to come back and get Miles and Lindsay, but Julia was certainly in no position to drag them away from their work. Maybe if she’d brought Eric along with her this morning, he could have karate-chopped the two of them into submission or whatever, but she wasn’t quite ready to go to that extreme.
“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll let Zahrias know that you’re staying.”
There, she thought. You were able to say his name without flinching. You can do this.
Miles nodded and turned back to his iPad. As if to trying to apologize for his rudeness, Lindsay flashed her a smile and mouthed thank you. Julia nodded and turned away from them, letting Murrah push the button to open the elevator door. They rode up in silence, but she thanked him as she left and headed back to the La Fonda hotel.
The rest of her team was already waiting in the lobby with their meager baggage. Julia debated whether to go over to Zahrias’ house to inform him they were leaving, or whether to take the coward’s way out and slip off before he could notice. She wasn’t given that option, however, because as soon as they went outside and began putting their backpacks and duffles in the back of the Suburban, the djinn leader appeared, seemingly from nowhere. At least, Julia hadn’t seen him walk up, but she supposed he could have just popped in from nowhere in that disconcerting way the djinn had.
He didn’t seem to have weathered the night much better than she. His eyes also looked shadowed, and his mouth was grim. But he nodded at them all pleasantly enough, although he appeared confused when he realized that Lindsay and Miles were not with them.
“Our mad scientist is still tabulating,” Julia explained, all too aware of the watching eyes of her companions as she and Zahrias shared this exchange. Had she sounded casual
enough? Too casual? Nothing to do but forge ahead. “So he and Lindsay are staying behind so they can keep working. We’ll send someone to fetch them when they’re done. I hope it’s not too much of an imposition.”
“Not at all,” Zahrias replied. “They’re welcome to stay for as long as they wish.”
This would have been easier if he’d been acting like a jerk. Then Julia could tell herself that her anger with him was entirely justified. But there he was, grave and courteous and handsome, playing the polite host. “I appreciate that,” she said. “Hopefully, it will only be for a day or so more. I honestly don’t know what it is that Miles thinks he can find, but when he digs his heels in, it’s best not to argue.”
“As I said, he and Lindsay can remain for as long as they deem necessary.” Zahrias’ gaze flickered past the remainder of her group, then returned to her. His eyes were cool and dark, betraying nothing. “Have a safe journey back to Los Alamos.”
“Thank you,” she said, an empty politeness. Of course they’d have a safe trip back. The day was bright and fine, and the device would keep them safe from any djinn interference. They’d be in Los Alamos within the hour.
She nodded toward her team, and they all climbed into the Suburban, Nancy and Eric in the back seat, Brent taking shotgun once again. Feeling Zahrias’ eyes on her the entire time, Julia got into the driver’s seat and shut the door. Was there something else she should have said? Probably not. The best thing now was just to get the hell out of here.
After retrieving her sunglasses from where she’d looped them around the rearview mirror, she pulled away from the curb in front of the hotel and headed back to Paseo de Peralta so she could get them back on the highway. One good thing about the apocalypse; you could ignore the maze of one-way streets around Santa Fe’s plaza and go any direction that was the fastest. No one else seemed to be driving that morning, so Julia could do what she wanted.
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